I’ll get right to it - I’m about six months pregnant with my first child (who is actually moving as I type!). I was in a relationship, but it ended within two weeks of me officially sharing that I was having a baby. That aspect was unexpected, but with the help of family and friends, a mental health specialist, reflection, experiences, and writing, I’ve managed to center myself. So, I’ve been single for the majority of my pregnancy.

With that though, not having the father of my child fully present throughout this experience bothered me in the beginning. I craved intimacy and I never thought I would be navigating this without his consistent companionship. We’ve hung out maybe five times since the announcement/breakup, and it’s usually like friends who are just forming a relationship through a mutual friend. It would go something like this: me stating my feelings, being met with silence, shedding some tears, eating, and maybe, just maybe a couple of laughs - if I could allow myself the luxury of letting them out. Regardless, there was still a part of me that wanted that closeness.

One day, I woke up to a money-related text that made my heart race, which was followed by an email questioning my validity as a writer. I was immediately on edge afterward and reached out to the father of my child. It was early in the morning and even though we had a tumultuous relationship, I knew I could at least escape my current surroundings and go to his house. I got there and brought up the fact that I hadn’t had sex in months, because well, it was true. We didn’t have intercourse though - thank God. He was actually casually seeing someone else at the time, and I stopped myself from getting too involved.

As our relationship continued to fade out, I started spending more time with a former lover. After some analysis, I’ve come to the understanding that I just wanted a certain tenderness that I wasn’t getting. (I always try to rationalize my emotions and desires, even when it’s difficult or nonsensical). We hadn’t seen each other in about two years, and it wasn’t a fully romantic link up in the beginning. We were friends with a history.

Time passed and I knew that he wanted to have sex, and honestly, so did I. I had been keeping myself since the new year started and like I said, there was a certain feeling of closeness that I wanted. We were spending time together one day, just snuggling and talking, when he initiated sex. I had gotten tested prior to this, and so had he, but I was still a bit uncomfortable having sex while carrying my child. I didn’t want to harm her, or myself in any way. He assured me that everything was fine though and that he had my best interest at heart.

The sex was actually amazing that first go round. It was passionate, respectful, funny, and safe. It was exactly what I had been desiring. What I didn’t realize though was that it should’ve been a one-time thing. Allowing it to happen three more times (all within a short span of time) was more for my emotions than my soul - and it showed. Soon, my entire being was in sync with itself and I felt less and less satisfied with our sexual encounters. By the fourth and final time, I was straight up rejecting him after minutes of sex. I wasn’t deriving pleasure from it at all.

My inner thoughts, (coupled with some unnecessary hurtful comments from this guy) pushed me to cut it off altogether. I wasn’t getting the joy I wanted and I knew that he wouldn’t be a major player in my life once my child was born. Our friendship had run its course. Like lint - I could’ve clung to a person and a sexual partner that I no longer wanted, but lint isn’t cute - it’s irritating at best. I chose to end all communication, focus on my daughter and career, and be celibate.

I knew I had made the right decision, even though there were times where I just wanted to be held and shown physical affection. I can live with those feelings. What I can’t live with is a connection that’s not 100%. Deciding to be celibate for the rest of my pregnancy has been healing for me because I no longer continuously weep over people who aren’t the best fit for me. Sure, I was a little fickle in my emotions, but I don’t regret being that way because it got me to this point.

My kiddo is doing perfectly in my belly, I’m pretty peaceful, and my career has been going very well since I let sex go. I spend a lot of time bonding with her, as opposed to looking to relate with men who won’t commit to me. I’ve read Hermann Hesse’s Siddartha and Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou, started freelancing news pieces for Teen Vogue, and I’m investing in more health and wellness products to accompany my lifestyle. Being celibate was one of my better life choices, and I’m glad I went for it.